One of My Favourite Things
by Laterose Vale
Summary: Neville's favourite things are love songs, London, and green grass. Hannah Abbot is determined to discover why. One-shot, written for Wildtalon1138's Favourite Things challenge. Read and Review please!


One of My Favourite Things

Disclaimer: Not mine. At all.

Author's Note: This is for Wildtalon1138's Favourite Things challenge. Neville Longbottom's favorite things are green grass, London, and love songs. Here's why! Read and review please and thanks!

* * *

The clean-up of Hogwarts was a slow and depressing project, but for some reason, Neville always had a smile on his face when they worked. On one particular day, he was working with a group of people from the year below him, excluding a Ravenclaw from a year up and Hannah Abbot from his year, and he smiled more so than usual. After nearly three hours of moving bricks and mending walls, Hannah asked him about it.

"Why are you so happy? Our school for seven years is in rubble, and hundreds of people died here." She asked him angrily. Neville looked at her shocked.

"Is that all anyone sees when they look now?" he responded in equal spite.

"What do you mean?" Hannah frowned, dropping her fury momentarily.

"Look at this." He said, motioning to a clump of grass half-crushed by a piece of stone.

"It's grass." She said, obviously confused. Neville nodded.

"It's _green_!" he cried, gathering a few odd looks from nearby people.

"Do often shout over green grass?" she inquired. He nodded once more.

"Of course. I love green grass. It means things are starting over. Getting better. Getting brighter." He smiled, moving the stone from the grass. Hannah rolled her eyes.

"Oh Merlin. Not only are you a snake-killer, but you're philosophical too?" she mocked. Neville laughed shyly.

"Well, great things have happened here, and great things will happen here again. That's why we're fixing the school isn't it?" he pleaded her understanding. Hannah paused, then nodded.

"But, you always seem happy. It's just… odd." She frowned. Neville took her hand.

"But it helps. It makes the work more bearable. It makes me forget about Colin Creevy, or Fred Weasley, or even my mum and dad." He whispered.

"I get it. I just wish I could be as happy as you." She whispered back.

"Just look at the grass." He murmured in mock sagacity. Hannah laughed.

"You really love that green grass, don't you?" she asked. He nodded somberly.

"It's one of my favourite things." They laughed together, and the world seemed a little brighter.

* * *

Neville walked briskly down the busy sidewalk of Muggle London, happily taking in the people and their busy unusual lives. He was so happily staring, in fact, that he didn't notice the blonde girl who stopped in front of him.

"Excuse me, Neville?" a happy voice inquired. Neville looked down to see a face he hadn't seen since the war.

"Hannah Abbot?" he asked, shocked. The small Hufflepuff girl had certainly grown up. She nodded.

"How are you? I haven't seen you in…" he trailed off, calculating the years.

"Two years." She grinned up shyly. Neville frowned. That long? "What're you doing here?" she asked.

"I can't take walks?" he asked, slightly insulted. She laughed brightly and unabashedly.

"I meant to say, 'What are you doing walking through noisy old London?" she smirked and Neville blushed.

"I like London. It's full of something new, everytime you come, but it's always the same too. You can walk the same streets and see something new, but the buildings are always there. Nothing changes, even though everything around it does. It's my favourite place to be." He explained shyly. Hannah nodded her head as though this was perfectly normal.

"I never thought of it like that. I've passed these buildings every day on my way home, and never once have I looked at them." She shook her head quietly. Neville sighed in mock despair.

"What a shame. I suppose you just don't have the same insight as I do." He smile down at her. She paused.

"You've changed since the war." She said quietly.

"You have too." He replied in a whisper. "Maybe that's why London is so special. It didn't change after the war, like everyone else did." He sighed. Hannah smiled, and then glanced at her watch.

"I have to go, or my mum'll keelhaul me." She frowned, but smiled once more after Neville grabbed her hand.

"Can I meet you again sometime?" he asked.

"Why don't we meet right here, same time, tomorrow. Good old London hasn't changed, so why should our meeting place?" she smirked, before walking past him.

They met there every day for a year, until Neville met her on one knee instead.

* * *

Neville Longbottom sat happily on the couch in his family room, his fiancé's head in his lap. Hannah was happily reading a book after a long day at the Leaky Cauldron, and Neville was glad to spend a few hours with her before going on another late-night Auror meeting. After a few minutes of quiet, he broke the silence and began humming an old Celestina Warbeck song. Hannah laid her book flat on her stomach and turned her eyes up to Neville.

"Why do always hum love songs?" she asked curiously. "I don't think I've ever heard you hum anything else." She observed. Neville frowned for a moment.

"I dunno. I guess it's just one of my favourite things. My mum and dad used to dance to them when they thought I was asleep. It's just something that stuck from when I was little." He smiled down at Hannah.

"That's really sweet, honey." She smiled a little sadly. Neville nodded. "What songs did they dance to?"

"I don't remember, really. I keep thinking I'll remember one of them, but I never do. I keep listening real close, but none of them seem right." He sighed. Hannah had a sudden idea.

"Dance with me." She commanded. Neville stared blankly.

"Sorry?" he asked, not understanding. Hannah sat up, and pulled herself up to her feet.

"Dance with me!" she laughed, grabbing his hands and dragging him up. She flicked her wand at the radio by the bookshelf and it began playing an old station that her friend's mum listened to when they were in school.

They danced quietly to the soft crooning of the radio, until the song ended and Neville stopped.

"That's it!" he cried. "That's the song!" Hannah laughed.

"That song was written, a year after you parents were admitted into St. Mungo's, Neville." She whispered.

"Then what-?" he frowned, suddenly disheartened.

"It's a _love_ song. Love! That's what you remember. That's what makes the songs so special. Your parents loved each other. We love each other." She grinned up at the twenty-something year old before kissing him gently. Neville smiled and returned it.

"It's still one of my favourite things." He whispered into her lips.

* * *

The group of family and friends, surprisingly large considering his social life at school, cheered as Neville and Hannah ran out of the church and through the rain. They gave one last wave, and climbed into the car. Neville shuddered slightly at the thought of moving in the big metal contraption, but Hannah had insisted.

They had just been married, three years exactly after they talked at the school. They were married just around the corner from the street they saw each other at. Their reception was held in a simple grassy field, with a nice white pavilion. They danced to exactly seven love songs, and one Weird Sister's song.

As Neville's new wife cuddled up to him and kissed him passionately in the back seat, not caring if the driver saw the kissing. Neville smiled down at Hannah, and she smiled back up at him.

"Hannah Longbottom?" he asked, smirking at the chance to say her name.

"Yes, Neville Longbottom?" she replied, happy at hearing their names.

"You're one of my favourite things." He whispered, and she smiled and whispered the words back to him. They were odd, they were dysfunctional, and they loved each other. Green grass, love songs, London-walks, and all.


End file.
